X Factor auditions: week four

Our weekly recap finds the judges in their theoretical fourth week of auditions, and the faint sound of a barrel being scraped in cities up and down the country. Surely we haven't run out of people that can sing already?

In another multi-location episode, the hopefuls of Glasgow, Birmingham and London are on parade - in front of the judges, and the thousands of people in the arena audience, of course. But how many potential gems will be mined today?

Not that many, as it turns out. Never mind: we watched it anyway, just in case.

You and your little dog Toto, too…

First up, we were at the Scottish audition, and, in an excitable voice, Dermot told us "it seems that the whole of Glasgow has turned up"

Including a woman and her singing dog. Which might seem a little more Britain's Got Talent than the X-Factor, but that'll teach them for not putting a tighter speciesist lockdown on the groups division. No need, though, as the dog refused to sing. As Simon said, it was just a confused dog being bounced up and down by a woman singing badly.

Cue the usual first twenty minutes of people who had managed to confused "shouting" with "singing" - and then, just when the judges started to think that that Glasgow was going to be a complete wash-out (cue another shot of the rain on the queue) … until, as if by magic, someone happened along who might actually have a chance! What a shocker, etc.

Rikki made it to boot camp last year, and this year wants to try again. Because he's feeling more confident, and has a nice new hat. He sings well - or well enough to get through to the next round. And with that, they're off. Done with Glasgow, apparently. Half an hour of this week's show, and they only found one person (who, to be fair, they'd found once already). Blimey, what a waste of time.

Capital Offensive

There was a strong push on the competition from the South - in the sense that almost all the viable propositions the producers treated us to this week were from there.

In London, we led with William, who is 82, who couldn't really sing very well, but charmed everyone into wanting him for a granddad, and, (possibly because he kept mentioning that he might die soon) he got through to the next round.

There was Lydia, who was 17 and a belter, Alistair, who falsettoed some Michael Jackson - and a group, that, as far as we could see, Cheryl put through all on her own. Another couple of young tunefuls later, we met young Shanna, who a) wants to offer her younger sisters and mum a better life etc and b) can sing. She had that peculiar style where, in a series of runs, flurries and wibblisations, you sing every single note in your range apart from the ones that were originally written into the song. But the judges always seem to like that a lot. So that worked out well.

In fact, everyone in London can sing. Everyone. So if we've learnt nothing else today it's that singing ability is increased through proximity to the equator. Which means that, if nothing else, X-Factor: Equador is probably a golden nugget of television waiting to be born.

Brummed out

Moving on to Birmingham, then was an interesting proposition. At 100 miles north of London, but 250 miles closer to the equator than Glasgow, there was a chance that people might be at least reasonable. Sadly, however, this didn't turn out to be so.

Debbie was 17, bubbly, confident and very excited to be auditioning - it was her dream to appear on the X Factor; it was her dream to win it. First dream: realised! But the second crushed, as the judges, one by one, explained how the all loved her personality but not her voice.

And then we had to watch her stand and start to cry in front of 2000 people, as Cheryl got out from behind the desk, made her way up to the stage, gave her a wee hug, went off the stage again, back behind the desk and sat down (and then said "Naw"). The fact that she gave her a hug was lovely. The fact that we had to watch the poor girl, speechless and tearful, silently weeping on stage just so they could get the hug in? Not that nice.

And for the most part, Birmingham seemed to be filled with people who came on stage and said things like "Singing has always been my ambition". Not "Singing in front of an audience" or "Making a career out of singing", just "singing". Like so many ambitions, it seemed unlikely to ever be realised. The person who came on and said that couldn't find the pitch in Wembley Stadium, let alone in the song they were attempting.

The predictable POW to top it off

And for the magic bullet at the end of the show?

Olly, the 25-year-old everylad from Essex, charming, handsome, and able to bust out a good rendition of Stevie Wonder's Superstition (although it sounded very like he was used to singing along to a much faster version. Though perhaps that was just my internet connection) , and the judges loved him. No sob story though. Unless you count working at a call centre, which I don't think we do, do we? They'll have to work on that. He must have some kind of aging relative, or something? Maybe he can adopt William, if not. The judges loved him though; audience too.

A question

Is there something about the groups that doesn't work so well in front of a live arena audition? Is there some technical reason that they haven't been showing as many? Or are we really just running out of singers, as a country: groups first?

Next week, the auditions draw to a close with not one, but two whole shows - equalling about a third of one show filled with people who can actually sing. Saturday at 8, and Sunday at some other time.

From this bunch, how many can you really imagine in the final ten? And since half my favourite recording artists are Scottish, has there been something put in the water of late that's rendered Scotland tuneless? Can someone look into that? Thanks.